The Artist
(English Madrigal)
The artist paints the lake’s serenity.
He lingers to capture the last of light.
He works till he gets shapes and colors right.
He lingers to capture the last of light.
He works till he gets shapes and colors right.
Its secrets seem to be his destiny.
Thoughts wander deeply in the scene’s delight.
The artist paints the lake’s serenity.
He lingers to capture the last of light.
Thoughts wander deeply in the scene’s delight.
The artist paints the lake’s serenity.
He lingers to capture the last of light.
He holds his breath, he sees with clarity,
As colors turn to magic at the sight.
His eyes perceive more than most people’s might.
The artist paints the lake’s serenity.
As colors turn to magic at the sight.
His eyes perceive more than most people’s might.
The artist paints the lake’s serenity.
He lingers to capture the last of light.
He works till he gets shapes and colors right.
He works till he gets shapes and colors right.
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